


Fear No More

by comets_nix



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Archangel - Freeform, Fear, Nightcrawler - Freeform, PTSD, Stress, after x men apocalypse, angel - Freeform, pre-nightangel if you look hard enough, really old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:05:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9778223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comets_nix/pseuds/comets_nix
Summary: Warren decided to stay at the mansion with the X-Men and hopefully, someday, become one of them and fight at their side rather than against them.But his memories and fears of the plane seem to have a stronger hold on him than he expected, and its up to his friends to bring his mind back to the present and remind him that he is safe at home, there with them.(not that long)





	

Let’s say Warren survived the crash, as he most likely did and very well could have, and he went to the school because, well, where else would he go?  
Let’s say he also stayed for good; healed his wings and got his feathers back, as he also very well could have and most likely would.  
And the team forgives him, and he forgives the team, after a few months of rehab and trust building.  
And all is well, right? He has his wings, he has friends for the first time, and he has a home again. Warren is comfortable, his past behind him and a new start at life ahead with people who actually care about him.  
And then, after those few months of peace after Apocalypse, another mission comes up and the X Men are needed.  
So Warren decides to go with them since he’s been training with them for so long and is already considered one of them.  
So as they gear up, Warren ready to fix his mistakes and be on the good side this time, they arrive in the giant garage and start loading the jet.  
And Warren just freaks out.  
He freezes, no one realizing until they are all in and see there’s an empty seat between them and a pale Angel standing outside on the floor.  
Warren would probably back away, shaking his head and his wings would be just trembling.  
Jean would whisper an ‘oh no,’ and Kurt would bamf out by him and put a hand on his shoulder, clearly confused and worried about his Angel. Warren would smack it away with a yelp, earning a gasp from poor Kurt, and muttering ‘no no no no no,’ having trouble breathing.  
Jean would understand right away what the problem is, unlike everyone else, and try to calm him down. She’d say his name steadily, walking towards him and trying to calm his mind.  
But Warren would freak out even more, and totally take off, flying out frantically and barely making it off the ground as he is so panicked.  
Kurt would stare dumbfounded and the team would become anxious, because damn it the world could be ending, they didn’t have time for Warren acting weird. ‘Why would a mutant with wings be scared of flying!?’ They’d think.  
Jean wouldn’t have a choice but to take worried Kurt and get back on the jet, flying to their mission with out Warren.  
But when they got back late that night Jean and Kurt would be the first to run to Warren’s room looking for him, and they’d find his door locked and shut tight with Metallica blasting full volume on the other side.  
Jean would knock frantically, but would get no answer. So Kurt would give in and bamf inside, ears ringing from the ripping guitar that vibrated the floor and his body, and see Warren curled up on the bed with a death grip on a stress ball.  
He’d look over at Kurt with red eyes, and Kurt would frown with understanding and turn the music down, walking to him and sitting on the bed. Jean would let herself in, joining them and putting a hand on Warren’s shoulder as he would sit up silently between them.  
“I’m so sorry Warren,” Jean would say, Kurt’s tail wrapping around Warren’s waist.  
“I just…” Warren would try to talk, explain himself, but couldn’t get the words past the threatening lump in his throat.  
And Jean would silence him, knowing all too well what he was trying to say.  
“We know, Warren. We shouldn’t have rushed you so fast like that. We should have remembered you wouldn’t be okay with the plane yet…” she’d say quietly.  
Warren would keep his watery gaze on the floor, and Kurt would be the first to lean in and wrap his arms around the Angel. He’d take Warren in his arms and rub that one hard-to-reach place between his wings, earning an exasperated sigh from Warren.  
And I bet the next time they needed the jet, or just when they decide to help Warren get over his terrible fear of the plane, they would find a system to keep those nasty flashbacks and memories at bay.  
Maybe something like a spare set of Peter’s headphones and Walkman, (who Peter so easily handed over after all was explained,) where Warren could play a loud track of Metallica above the engine. And then one of those rubbing stones you hold when your anxiety is up, and the repetitive smooth motion would help his shaking limbs and restless wings. He’d probably jump and touch his wings every now and then, making sure they were still there. 'White feathers. No melting metal. Good.’ The music would play so loud the team could hear it clearly but Warren could care less. And maybe a track of gentle foreign music would be in there somewhere with the heavy metal… and as Warren would sit bouncing his foot and keeping his eyes sternly closed as the jet flew on, the team would all stare in shock as the soothing songs of 'Die Lerche Singt Ihr Abschiedslied’ and 'The Marriage of Figaro Duettino’ would sound from the headphones.  
But they wouldn’t say a word, as they all understood Warren’s fear and pain, and would let him be. Because they all have something bad in their past that they needed help with, right? And Warren was one of them now. And let’s say a few more hands would start to find their way to Warrens back, rubbing circles into his skin and relaxing him just a bit more. And maybe that would relax the whole team before a mission that could easily be their last. Everyone huddled together by Warren, the German singing filling their ears as the jet flew on.  
And for once, maybe Warren wouldn’t have nightmares about explosions and fire and melting metal wings. Maybe now he’d dream about Mozart and smooth flying and gentle hands.


End file.
